Keep the Shiny Side Up
by Aseph
Summary: A clueless girl moves into a town full of crime. And it's hilarious.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Old Memories and New Ones

I was a bartender. My two years of community college didn't really do anything helpful, and didn't really prepare me for anything. So I moved to Charming. I thought it was a nice name for a town, and I always wanted to live in California to see what all the fuss was about. This was my life. I was a bartender, and I had even bought my own shop. It was complete with stripper poles in the background, a few back rooms, and fancy lights. I was a bartender and I had never even had a drink. I had never even taken a sip of alcohol. But I made them every day for bikers, bums, old guys, and sad, sad single people. I lived off tips. I had an apartment. And I was terribly, excruciatingly lonely.

My dad was an auto mechanic. Ever since I was little chubby girl he taught me how to fix up cars, motorcycles, you name it. He made me laugh every day. He even left me an old Harley, but I was never brave enough to ride it. Until I moved to Charming.

I remember it was unbearably hot that day. I was sick of making drinks all night and having nothing to do all day, so I looked for jobs at automotive service places. My car was nothing special. It was an old blue Taurus. I could tell people all over California were snickering at me. I checked places like Jiffy Lube, Big O' Tires, and O'Reilly Auto parts. (Lots of O's.) I would walk in to ask about an interview and some hunky dude would always say, "Oh sweetheart, you poor thing, do you need your oil changed?" or, "Are you lost? This isn't the mall. Have your husband come take care of your car needs." Needless to say, I had no luck that day.

So I went home that night, and decided that the next day, I would have to take a different approach. I was a damn lady, but tomorrow, I'd have to be a bit of a slut.

The next morning I put on a black fitting shirt, and a mini jean skirt. I straightened my unruly curly hair and I put on some red combat boots. It was the best I could do. I drove all around the area - no place was hiring. As I was driving, my air conditioning stopped working. This was sure to be another fantastically, horrible day. I rolled down the window and turned on the radio, which was playing "Bad Moon Rising" I blasted the song and started shouting out the window, "I GIVE UP. TAKE ME NOW LORD!" When suddenly, on the side of the rode, I saw a sign that read, "Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair." It looked a little shady, but I thought I'd go have a look. Maybe they were hiring, or just needed some day help. I dunno. Anyways, I decided to park my car on the curb and walk inside first. (I really didn't want them to laugh at my dumb grandma car.) As I walked up the driveway I noticed the very long line of big, black, beautiful Harley Davidsons parked along the edge. I stopped and stared for a minute. They reminded me of my dad. Then I remembered that Charming has a lot of MC's nearby. And if this garage was home to a motorcycle club, they definitely weren't hiring girls. And didn't want girls around there.

I turned on my heal very awkwardly and began to walk out when a gravelly voice called out,

"Do you need somethin' darlin'?"

He was a large, older man with an oxygen bag, and a worn out Levi cut. He looked sweet, wise, and, well, a little bit scary.

"Um, well, uh" Oh no. My voice was all squeaky and nervous. I tried to answer but I was just too shy. Too embarrassed.

"Piney! Bring her in here! I can take care of it, hun." A woman called from inside a little office building.

I smiled at Piney, who smiled back, and walked towards the door. Stepping inside, it was covered in papers, and girly magazines, I tried to hide the red in my face. Without looking up from the papers she was highlighting, the woman asked me, "Are you a new Crow Eater?"

"A-a-a what?" I stuttered out.

She looked up at me. This woman was fabulous. She had dark hair with highlights, she had a leather jacket, leather boots, and black eye-makeup. She was bad ass. And I mean Bad. Ass.

I was scared to death. But I thought about it for an awkward minute. I liked the motorcycles. I can fix motorcycles. I liked the smell of the gasoline and the fumes and everything. And I liked how nice Piney was. Finally she realized I was just an out-of-place, dumb little girl.

"Oh! Sorry," she chuckled, "You must be picking up a car? Or you need your car looked at? Oil changed?"

"No, actually, I, um, I have my automotive mechanic license. I just, well, I've been looking around for places that could use some extra helpful…hands?" The sentence I spurted out was hideous. Simply hideous. I had just embarrassed myself in front of this woman.

"You wanna work here? Sweetheart, this place is full of drunk, old, perverts!" She laughed. "But, I mean, if you know what you're doin', then, I don't know, maybe. How long have you been working with cars?" she asked.

"My whole life. My dad, he taught me everything a woman needs to know about cars, and then, everything a man needs to know."

She laughed out loud. I had made her laugh! I mentally high-fived myself. She stuck her hand out, "I'm Gemma."

I shook her hand and introduced myself, "I'm Tyler."

"Tyler is a boy's name, you know that right?" She chuckled.

"Well, my dad wanted me to be a boy." I answered. She laughed out loud again. My courage built up a bit, so I asked, "So, you guys are also a motorcycle club? My dad was part of one when I was little, but he never talked about it."

"Yep. Sons of Anarchy. Serving the town of Charming since 1967." She smiled. "Why don't you write down your number, and I will talk to my old man about hiring you here. How old're you hun?" She handed me a card.

"I'll be twenty three in a month."

"Twenty three? You're a damn baby!" She laughed again. "We'll give you a call and you can come over and show Clay what you can do. You're kinda cute so, he'll probably let you work here."

"Well, thank you so much, Gemma! It was nice to meet you." I shook her hand again and opened the door. "Oh, and um, what's Crow Eater?"

"Ha! I think you'll find out soon enough. See you later hun." I walked out and made my way down the driveway, smiling to myself. I had found myself a job. Maybe.

A gloved hand tapped me on the shoulder, and startled, I spun around. A young guy with tattoos on either side of his head smiled. "Did you get your car fixed up alright?" he asked.

I panicked. My eyes were wide. I looked at him for three seconds and blurted out,

"You know, my air conditioning stopped working while I was driving and I think I just need to check the drain line, or change the air filter, or maybe the air conditioner keeps tripping the circuit breaker, in which case I think I can just fix it myself so, no worries, but thank you, and uhm, yep, okay, bye, thank you, I'm gonna,…go, but uh, thanks."

And with that I stumbed back to my extremely hot car and rode away with a red face, hot with embarrassment and heat.

 **(So, this was my first attempt at a fanfiction. I will be adding more soon I hope!)**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

That night I was working in the bar. I had fixed up the old shop in Charming and named it, "Z-Bar" Like the 70's style of motorcycle handlebars. I thought it was clever. It was a quiet night. I had put on some old blues music. Not many people came in. As I wiped the countertop down and put up the barstools for the night, I thought about my dad. I wished more than anything he could come teach me how to be a better motorcycle rider, or that we could fix something up together. Think about my dad made me want to go back to Teller-Morrow even more, and I didn't know why. That night I barely slept.

The next morning I was obviously a tired, sloppy mess. I poured myself a bowl of peanut butter captain crunch and sat there, mindlessly chomping on my sugary cereal. It was so loud and crunchy that I started to annoy myself. I felt boring, useless, and lame. Out of nowhere, I slammed the bowl down and put on some basketball shorts and an old ratted t-shirt. I whipped my hair up into a bun and splashed some water on my face. I was going to go outside and fix my dad's old Heritage and learn to ride it.

So I sat in the driveway of this old cluttered house and started taking things apart. I worked for hours, getting black oil under my nails and all over my face. I was cursing, swearing, and cutting up my callused fingers. I had been sweating outside in the hot sun when I heard two very loud engines roaring up the street. And they stopped in front of my house.

My first reaction was: RUN INSIDE AND HIDE! My second reaction was: Ignore them? Third reaction was: Oh, they're here from Teller-Morrow. Calm down, it's okay. My fourth reaction was: Shit, I look like shit and these are some cool biker gang guys and I look like shit. I stood up and grabbed a nearby bandana and attempted to wipe my face off. (Which I'm sure just spread the oil around more.)

They both dismounted their bikes and walked towards me. One of them was the young tattoo-head guy. The older one introduced himself.

"You must be Tyler. I'm Clay. I think you talked to my wife, Gemma." He said in a surprisingly kind voice. "Did you just move into town?"

"Yeah, I did." I smiled. "My dad grew up here, and I've just been job hunting and working and stuff."

"Hey, yeah I met you yesterday! Did you get your AC all fixed?" the tattoo-head guy asked.

"Yeah, it's doing fine." I laughed.

"That's a nice bike you got there. Looks kind of big for you, though." Clay said looking me up and down.

He was right. It was extremely large, which I hadn't thought about. I probably couldn't ride it.

"Oh, it was my dad's. I'm just fixing it for…fun. Tryin' to keep busy." I said nervously.

"Fixing your old man's bike. That's sweet. What was his name?" Clay asked.

"His name was Darrell Ray. Loved bikes." I smiled.

Clay's smile, however, disappeared. His eyebrows creased in the middle and stared at my face, as if he recognized me.

"Darrell Tyler Ray?" He asked slowly. "De-Ray?"

"Um…yes. He uh, gave me his middle name. How do you-?" I was so confused.

"Why don't you come back to the club house with us, Tyler? You can ride with Juice." Clay ordered.

I wasn't going to refuse or disagree. Juice smiled nervously as I grabbed a helmet and sat behind him. I really just wanted a job, but I guess I was going to go learn more about my dad.

Chapter 3:

We got to Teller-Morrow which doubled as a club house for the Sons of Anarchy. There were grim reaper signs everywhere, and grim reaper logos on all their bikes. They had Sons of Anarchy and reapers on the back of their leather cuts. It was really awesome, and really intimidating. Juice and I got off his bike he tried to say something but Clay instructed him to go inside.

Clay put his heavy arm around my shoulders and led me to the office where Gemma was.

"Hey Tyler! How's everything going?" Gemma said.

"Can you keep her here for a minute? I need to call a church meeting. Now." Clay said sternly. He then walked outside, into the garage and yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear: "EVERYONE CHURCH MEETING IN FIVE!"

I saw a handful of leather-vested guys walk into the club house, looking at me strangely. Gemma looked at me, and I looked at her. I shrugged helplessly. I was trying to express that I hadn't done anything wrong and I didn't mean to upset anyone. I think she saw the worry in my eyes and put an arm around me.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I think Clay just found out who your dad was."

I turned to her, "Wait, do you know who my dad was?"

"I just barely realized you were De-Ray's kid. Years ago, he told us his wife was dead, and all his kids were grown and moved away. We didn't know he still had a little one, or else we would have never agreed to do what we did." She said sadly.

"What? What did you do? My dad died of cancer. There was nothing anybody could do about it." I was starting to tear up and my voice was cracking.

"Tyler! Join us please." Clay called to me.

"He'll tell you everything you need to know sweetheart." Gemma said as she pushed me forward.

I very, very timidly walked into the clubhouse. There was a bar, a pool table, some couches, a stripper pole, and some bedrooms. Just in front of me there were two large doors that probably opened into the place they were all meeting in. A smaller guy wearing a vest that said "Prospect" on it, opened the door. He smiled, but with a sense of warning in his eyes. I stopped.

"You can come in." some male voice yelled.

I shuffled in like an old grandma. I was in basketball shorts. My shirt and face were covered in dirt and oil. I was not prepared for this. I didn't even know how I ended up here. I just wanted to be a mechanic and keep myself busy. I was too young to die! I walked in anyway like a baby deer, wobbling and wide-eyed.

Clay stood up, and started pointing at large, scary men sitting around the table. The table was huge, and also had a huge grim reaper carved into it.

"Tyler this is Jax, Tig, Chibs, Happy, Opie, Piney, Bobby, Juice, and Half Sack."

What do I do. What do I do. Do I wave? Curtsey? Smile? Smile. Let's go with smile. I smiled gently and waved a hand.

"The club owes you a bit of explanation. About your old man." Clay said softly. "Sit."

I took a cautious seat next to Half Sack.

Piney, who I had met before spoke up. "I think I'd better tell her." He said with an old grumbly voice.

I didn't even have the frame of mind to really process what was going on or to question what they were talking about. So I just listened.

"Your father, De-Ray, was never really a member of the club, but he was a really close friend. A lot of these guys don't remember or know about him, but Clay and I loved him like a brother. He always had candy for Jax and Opie. He was a good guy, and he watched out for us." Piney said solemnly.

I interrupted, "I don't.. understand?"

"We got him killed, Tyler." Clay blurted out. "We didn't mean to, I… we voted on whether or not to even tell you the truth about this, but we thought you ought to know."

My voice started cracking and squeaking. "My..my father died of cancer. He had cancer."

"He did." Piney said. "He made a deal with us. He wanted to go out his way. So he helped us with a problem we had and sacrificed himself. It was a mutual agreement."

"So, what you're saying is, he left me behind." I was angry now.

"No.. no, he uhm. Actually, he didn't really tell us he had a little girl." Clay chimed in.

"That doesn't really…um… comfort me.. He didn't tell anyone that I even existed, and then left me fatherless.." I held back anger-filled tears. I wasn't going to let myself cry.

There was an awkward silence.

Piney stood up. "Well on behalf of De-Ray, we want to make it up to you. We're going to help you fix up his hold bike and make sure you have a home in this town. Darrell Ray's daughter is family to us." He smiled at me hopefully.

Happy spoke up, "So what do you say? Keep in mind we're a big group of guys so you kind of half to do what we say." He winked.

"Don't scare her, Happy." Piney looked around. "There's gotta be something you can do around here," he thought out loud.

I smiled. "Let me fix cars, motorcycles, and drinks, and I might stick around for a while."

Chapter 4

A few weeks went by. The actual workers (not club members) finally stopped trying to tell me what to do when it came to fixing cars, and just let me work by myself. I was quick at getting jobs done, and I liked listening to music and keeping myself busy. Clay's vice president, Jax, who was also his step-son, had been out running an "errand" for a few days. So, he didn't know I was there or who I was or what I was doing there. He came into the car garage, looking for Juice. He thought Juice was underneath the car, lying back on the creeper, but it was me. He started talking away about something he needed. I was scared and a bit humiliated but I slid out from under the car. I forgot I was in shorts and a tank top and probably covered in grease. When I wheeled myself out from under the car, Jax almost jumped 7 feet in the air.

"You are not Juice." He said in surprise. We had a good laugh and he introduced himself. He very quickly told me that he had an "old lady," which was their term for serious girlfriend/wife. I was kind of disappointed, I'm not going to lie. I told him about my dad. He was very sympathetic. He understood.

Anyways, the days went by, I worked harder. Bobby brought my dad's old bike to the garage and helped me work on it. I was happier, less lonely.

Now I'm not saying being around the Sons of Anarchy was a bowl of cherries. It was really hard to adjust to. There were skanks running around in fishnets twenty four hours a day. Well not skanks. A lot of the girls were really nice women. Lyla was really sweet. Tara was a doctor, and Jax's old lady. She tolerated me. They both told me to watch out for some chick named Ima, but I didn't have a boyfriend she could steal, so I wasn't too worried about it. Lots of porn stars, and lots of drunken parties.

Chapter 5

It had been about 4 months since I started hanging out with my "new family." They had family dinners, family outings, helped me with groceries. They were all very nice. A little mysterious, and sometimes there was gunfire, but, they were all interesting, and generally nice people. I liked to work in the little kitchen they had in the clubhouse. A lot of the time the boys would be hungover and need breakfast, so Gemma and I would buy some eggs, bacon, steak, etc. and she'd let me cook breakfast and serve coffee. One morning I was doing just this, and I put out some fruit, (because they needed more in their diet besides meat) and Tig started laughing maniacally at me.

Tig had curly black hair, green eyes, and a goatee. He looked both kind and evil at the same time. He started laughing harder and stabbing at the fruit with a fork, probably still a little drunk.

"Tyler." He laughed, twirling a peach slice on his fork.

"What?" I tilted my head and asked innocently.

"You know Tyler is a boy's name, don't you?" He slurred. "You know what name I like?"

"What name do you like?"

"Peaches. Peaches, are delicious and sweet. I don't like calling you Tyler. You should be Peaches." He grinned at me.

"Okay, Tig. Whatever you want." I smiled and poured him some coffee.

Now, I didn't know that he was serious, or that he was going to inform the whole club about this new nickname. "Peaches" kind of sounds like a stripper name, but oh well. That's what the club called me from that day on.

"Hey Peaches, cook me some pancakes?" and "Peaches, do you have that wrench?"

That was my name from then on. The only time someone called me by my name, "Tyler" was when they were talking to me about my dad or something serious. I felt like part of the gang, having a nickname and all. I liked it. Half Sack's girlfriend's name was "Cherry." So I felt like I fit in. I was finally a part of something.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 6

A few weeks went by and I got to know Tara and Jax's kids a bit better. They were absolutely adorable. Abel, who was just getting excited about new words, loved to yell, "Peaches! Peaches!" Tara would let me tend Abel some days while she worked at the hospital. Abel loved to sprinkle chocolate chips in the pancakes, (which Bobby especially liked.) Eventually, Tara finally started being a bit softer towards me. I guess she felt like she could trust me, kind of. But she still wanted answers to some pieces of my life that didn't quite fit together. I was putting away some dishes when she sat on a barstool across the counter.

"Hey Peach," Tara chuckled. I could tell she thought the nickname was silly, so she said it in a sarcastic kind of way. I didn't mind. She was an educated doctor, after all. And I was just a bartender.

"Hi Doc," I winked. "Can I get you anything? Abel just discovered Nutella on toast."

She laughed. "No, I'm good, thanks. I just came to check up on you."

"On me?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, just making sure you're getting along okay." She smiled in a strange way. She was looking for answers.

"What's goin' on Tara?" I made a funny suspicious face at her and raised one eyebrow.

"Well," she sighed, "I just don't understand. How does a twenty-two year old buy a whole bar? And have a house to herself? And manage that bar by herself when she's barely legally allowed to even drink alcohol… You should be in college for Christ's sake."

"Oh," I laughed under my breath, "I was wondering when you were gonna ask me about that. Well, Doc. I've had kind of a sucky child hood."

"We've all had a rough past," Tara interrupted, "That doesn't even begin to explain how you're doing okay on your own… as a kid."

"Tara, I… I'm just scared that maybe you won't… think as highly of me if I tell you what I've grown up with."

"I think I can handle it." She raised her eyebrows. Waiting for an answer.

"My dad died. He left me a motorcycle. That's it. My mom didn't want anything to do with me. My siblings were already grown up. I was put into foster care. It was the worst time of my life." I said sternly.

"Wait, your mom is still alive? I thought you were an orphan." Tara's eyes widened.

"She's Hispanic, so I think she went back to Mexico. Maybe. I don't know where she is. She calls me maybe once a year. Mainly if she needs money. Or wants to complain about her boyfriend." I said a bit angrily.

"Oh, I'm…sorry." Tara looked down.

"And to answer your question about money… How do I put this? I desperately needed to get out of my foster home. I desperately need money. So, I ran away at 16. I lied about my age and got a job… at a strip club."

"You did not!" She said, shocked.

"I did. I learned to pole dance really, really well actually. I never did any prostitution or drugs or shit like that. I just pole danced. And I made lots of money."

"How long did you do this for, Peach?" Tara said almost sadly.

"Until I was 20 or so. Then I learned the art of bartending and saved enough money to move from Nevada to here. And here I am." I said, curtseying.

Tara looked at my face. I could see a dash of pity in her eyes, when suddenly she sat up and said, "I really respect you for that, Tyler."

"I'm confused," I squinted.

"You did what a lot of girls could never do. You took care of yourself; you did what you had to do."

"I don't know about that, Doc. You worked really hard for a respectable job and I'm just… lost."

"You're not lost, Tyler. You worked really hard, too. I'm impressed." Tara smiled genuinely at me.

For the first time I felt as if someone really was proud of me. I started to feel myself choking up when the worst thing possible could have happened.

Jax, Juice, and Chibs were standing just around the corner. Chibs smoothly glided from behind the wall and took his sunglasses off slowly.

"I never would have guessed." He said in his thick accent. "You, my dear, are a girl of many talents."

"You're mom's Hispanic? I'm Hispanic!" Juice said ignorantly joyfully.

The three men looked at each other and laughed. They knew my secret and there was no getting it back now. With my face turning a nice tomato-red, I awkwardly turned and stepped back into the kitchen.

"What are ya doing back there Peachy?" Chibs called teasingly.

"Avoided confrontation and further embarrassment!" I yelled back.

Jax went to Tara and kissed the top of her head. He smirked at me. "So, do you do the bartending AND entertaining in your bar, too?" He asked me.

"No! Of course not. No. That pole never really gets used. It's for private parties and stuff."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jax grinned and walked away.

Chibs and Juice followed behind, and as Chibs put his sunglasses back on, he looked directly at me, and winked.

Chapter 7

The next weekend I was chatting with Tara and Gemma outside by the garage driveway. A few of the prospects had built a little swing set for Abel and Thomas. It was late afternoon and the three of us were watching the boys climb and play. Everything was calm and happy. Well, until the obnoxiously loud motorcycle engines came roaring up the driveway. Obviously, something was wrong. Every single club member harshly dismounted their bike and slammed their helmets down. We could hear them shouting at each other as they walked into the clubhouse.

"What are we going to do?" "We have to come up with something!" "We'll figure something out!" Things like that.

Gemma and I looked at each other. Lord only knows what could have happened. They could've been threatened, got in a fist fight, got shot at, anything could go wrong on any given day for the Sons. Tara was almost always ready to stitch up a bullet hole, bite, cut, anything.

We decided to go back to Gemma's house and stay away from the commotion. Tara, Lyla, and I sat the boys down and I made grilled cheese. We nervously giggled and talked, but we knew that something was wrong and we would have to deal with it. And we did.

Opie, Jax, and Clay came stomping inside.

Jax put his hands on the back of a chair in Gemma's dining room and looked at us. He had that look on his face that he only had once in a great while. It was the same look he had when something dangerous was going to happen, or when he had some tremendous task to accomplish to ensure everyone's safety. I still felt extremely out of place. Jax had Tara. Clay had Gemma. Opie had Lyla. And I was just… there. As a seventh wheel. So I placed all my attention on the two babies. Which still felt weird because they weren't my nephews or my sons. They were Tara's kids. I sat on the edge of my seat. Avoiding eye contact.

"We worked things out with the Russians. They took the guns off our hands. But they want a favor." Jax sighed loudly.

"What kind of favor?" Lyla said dryly. She already knew what Jax needed.

Opie spoke up. "Lyla, we need at least 12 girls. They want one girl for every guy. The Russians are okay with white, but they also want something more… uh, spicy."

"I can get 8 girls that I'm sure would do it. But only know about 3 Hispanic girls. I don't know a lot of girls with a good amount of experience."

"We're one girl short," Opie looked at Jax worriedly.

"Lyla, this is really, really urgent." Jax said. "Think, is there anyone, anyone else that could help us out. She doesn't even have to be really Hispanic, she could just be really tan."

"What's going on, Ope?" She said innocently.

"Dammit!" Clay yelled suddenly. "They have Tig!"

Gemma and I looked up.

"And they're not going to give him back until the night of this party. So it better happen! Quick!" Clay pointed an angry finger at Opie and Jax. "This is on you, Jax." He then stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Gemma followed after.

Lyla, Jax, and Opie stood looking at each other with their arms crossed, desperately thinking of another solution.

Jax suddenly looked up as if a shiny light bulb had illuminated over his head. He gasped and spun his head in my direction.

"Peaches!"

"Oh no." I violently started shaking my head. "No, no, no. No. I don't know.. how.. or what I'm doing.. I can't! There's know way. Nope. I've never done that. No. I'm a pole dancer. Or, I was. I was, and now I'm not and I've never.. I don't think that's a good idea. At all."

"Peach, you know how to pole dance, we're not going to make you do anything more. I promise. I promise, we won't let anything happen, we're not going to let the party go that far. Lyla will be there too. Alvaraz and the Mayans are coming with us to settle this. We have a plan, just trust me." Jax grabbed my shoulders. "We need you to help us."

"Okay."

Chapter 8

The night of the "party" finally came. The whole club was anxious to get Tig back, and to make sure he was okay and unharmed. The Russians agreed to host the party at one of their strip clubs. Which was probably a good idea because Samcro was intending to light it up with bullets.

Lyla, the other girls and I met at Luanne's porn studio. The club was waiting on the couches for us girls to be ready. It was incredibly awkward. For me. I didn't fit it. I was late, and showed up in jeans and a t-shirt. Lyla looked me up and down. She was wearing… well, she wasn't wearing much.

"Peach." She said. "What are you wearing?"

"Um.." I looked at my converse shoes.

"Come on, we'll find you something to wear." Lyla grabbed my hand and led me to a dressing room. It was filled with make-up, sexy costumes, vanities, and high heeled shoes.

"Get undressed." She ordered.

I hesitated.

"Peaches, calm down. You need to let go of your shyness and your fears. This isn't real. You just need to dance on that pole for a minute and the club will take care of the rest, okay?" She gave me warm hug. "Let's get this shirt off."

Lyla pulled my t-shirt off and handed me a black, sparkly, two piece. But when I turned my back to her I heard her gasp loudly as if she'd seen a mouse, or a tarantula run across the floor. I spun around.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked with my eyes wide.

"Your back! What…what happened to you?!" She put her hands over her mouth.

I had completely forgotten. I forgot about the thick jagged scars on my back. I didn't know what to say. My heart started thumping in my chest. I looked down.

"… Peach I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"No, Lyla, it's okay. I said trying to calm her down. I.. I was talking to Tara about this the other day. I, uh, I grew up in some with some rough foster parents. It's okay." I tried to smile.

Lyla almost had tears in her eyes. "What did they do to you?" She whispered.

I looked away. In truth, I was ashamed of the scars on my back. They were deep, and purple, and well, ugly. They made me feel weak. They made me relive every terrible memory I had as a child.

"Girls! Showtime!" Opie called from behind the door.

"Hey, it's fine. I should probably wear something that will hide the marks, though." I said with as much cheer as I could.

Lyla nodded and grabbed a different costume for me. She pulled out some make up and began dabbing it on the scars that were showing. "I'm sorry this happened to you." She said comfortingly. "And I'm sorry for… bringing it up."

"It's okay." I half smiled. We both looked in the mirror at our ridiculous makeup and our ridiculously tiny outfits.

"You ready?" I asked confidently.

She nodded once and we walked out of the dressing room, ready to tell the club to get this show on the road.

The rest of the girls met Lyla and I by the door. They all started gasping and grabbing my freshly curled hair. They were all squealing and complimenting me on my black corset and high heels that I was shaking in.

"Let's go show the boys!" Some lady I didn't know said mischievously. "Stand behind us! We will present you. Our newest creation." She giggled.

A look that can only be described as, 'horrified" was on my face.

I wobbled behind them as we walked towards the couches all the guys were sitting in. The girls all stood in front of me, and a deep woman's voice seductively said, "Ta-Da."

They all separated to either side, leaving me in the middle, standing there like a deer in the headlights.

Suddenly every eye of each club member was on me. Lyla was smiling from ear to ear unabashedly. Obviously proud of her makeup skills.

"Holy shit." Jax said.

"Is that OUR Peachy?" Chibs asked.

"Doesn't she look amazing!?" Some girl squealed.

"I don't like it. " Juice chimed in from the background. "Too much makeup. Doesn't suit you."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, Juice."

And with that we all headed towards the Russian slaughterhouse.

Chapter 9

The girls and I got out of the car and headed for back entrance door. Chibs offered to take my jacket for me, like a real gentleman. However, when he took my jacket, he had the same look of shock on his face that Lyla did. I looked at him. He said nothing, but he had a look of anger, sadness, and protectiveness on his face. A look that said, "You will explain this to me later." He looked me in the eyes without blinking, pressed his lips together and walked down the hallway, into the club.

There was music. There were lights. There was action. I stood behind a stage with two other pole dancers. Jax looked at the three of us.

"You're all ready?" He asked.

We all nodded.

"Okay. Make it pretty, make it professional, and be as distracting as possible. We'll que the music and you start the show. You know what to do." He smiled.

And I did know what to do. I had done this a thousand times. I looked out at the seats surrounding the stage. There was all of the Sons of Anarchy, a bunch of Russians, and a whole lot of Mexicans. Tig had finally arrived. He was fine, thankfully, and was gathered up in hug after hug. They were all drinking, talking, laughing, and the Russians were completely unaware that Clay was planning on shooting them all.

The music started. My black silhouette posed behind a white backdrop. The room went silent. Then they all watched, mesmerized as I strutted out from behind the screen and started dancing.

Now, pole dancing is not just twirling like a slut around a pole. It is some physically difficult and challenging aerobic activity. You have to lift yourself, spin, figure out your center of gravity, turn upside-down, etc. Years of practice had prepared me to give the show of a lifetime. And that is exactly what I did.

When the song ended, everyone applauded and whistled loudly. We went off stage. Lyla stepped up to the front and invited the 12 Russian "guests of honor" to step up on stage. They were all drunk, and happily obliged. We set up twelve folding chairs, and each of us stood behind one. We sat them down in this row of chairs, and seductively blindfolded them. They smiled ignorantly with their eyes covered. They laughed, waiting for a lap dance, or more alcohol.

But what they got was gunfire.

The girls dove behind the stage and covered their ears. The Sons of Anarchy and The Mayans whipped out their guns and killed every Russian and their body guard in a whirlwind of chaotic bullets.

In only a few moments everything was silent.

"Girls okay?" Jax yelled at us with his gun still in his hand.

"Yes!" We yelled back.

Opie came and got us and led us outside so we didn't have to see any dead bodies. We stood outside by the cars, and the motorcycles, waiting for the club. They walked towards us and gathered us up, one by one, in a thankful hug. Chibs brought me my jacket and helped me put it on. And just like I had guessed, he whispered in my ear and said, "We're going to discuss this later, girly."

"Thank you, ladies." Jax said sincerely.

"That was some of the best pole dancing I've ever seen, Peaches!" Tig said a little too excitedly. "You're like, a professional!"

"Thank you." I said shyly and looked down.

"We're gonna clean up and finish taking care of things." Jax said. "Lyla, get these girls home."

"Hey, how come Alvaraz didn't show up?" Opie asked

"Couldn't make it. He said something about picking up his sister or some shit," Clay said.

"What!?" I said out of nowhere.

They all just looked down at me, wondering why I had asked a question and wondering what in the world was wrong.

A very loud motorcycle came zooming up the road. It was Alvaraz, the Mayan's President. There was a woman in tight fitting leather sitting behind him. They stopped short and the woman practically jumped off the bike. She ripped off her helmet and walked quickly towards me. Angrily. She was swearing in Spanish and threw her helmet on the gravel.

"You little slut." She said in disgust.

She started running at me, and before I knew it, she tackled me to the ground. She started punching and slapping my face into the dirt. I didn't fight back, I couldn't.

Alvaraz and a couple other Mayans grabbed her by the waist and pulled her off me. The started to drag pull her away. Opie and Chibs helped me to my feet.

"How do you know her?" Jax asked in complete confusion.

"That's my mom."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 10

Tara put a cold, wet cloth on my lip.

"Jesus. That was your mother?"

"Unfortunately." I sighed. "That's good old Diana. As loving as always."

"So, Alvaraz is your uncle?" Jax was trying to put together the pieces.

"He is. He originally wanted to turn my bar into the Mayan's new clubhouse, but I said no. I guess he's wanted revenge ever since. And now I'm hanging out with the Sons, so, he must not be happy about that." I said in a matter-of-fact kind of way.

"Why didn't you agree? He's family, isn't he?" Jax asked, confused.

"I don't really consider him family, so no."

"Why?" Jax spit out another question.

"Haven't you heard that most Mexican uncles are super creepy, pedophile-ass-heads and molest little girls?" I said a bit angrily.

"Oh." Jax and Tara said in unison.

"I think I'm just gonna go home. I'll deal with my mom later." I went to grab my jacket, but Chibs already had it in his hand.

"Lyla and the gals left. I'm taking you home." Chibs said. "We're taking the Doc's car. Let's go."

Jax and Chibs shot each other a look. Clearly, Chibs had informed the club about my scarred back. Silently, I followed Chibs to the car. He opened the door for me.

"Get in." He gave another order.

Part of me was getting tired of Chibs barking commands at me, and another part of me was terrified this gigantic Scottish man telling me what to do. We started driving down the dirt road, and eventually onto the highway. It was silent the whole way.

"You did alright tonight, Peachy." He said finally.

"I'm just glad I could help." I said softly.

It was silent for another few minutes. He spoke again.

"Now is the part where you tell me." He said looking ahead at the road.

"Explain what?" I asked as innocently as I could.

Suddenly Chibs grabbed the steering wheel and jerked the car to the side of the road. He slammed on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. He ripped the key out of the ignition and pointed it at me.

"Don't you dare do that." He said firmly. "Don't you dare pretend like you don't know what I'm talkin' about."

I could only stare back at him, with wide, terrified eyes.

"I need to know what happened. Now." He glared at me.

"I talked to Tara about it… kind of.. Why… why does it even matter?" I squeaked.

"Why does it matter?" Chibs repeated my question. "Because, **no one** , does shit like that to a member of **our** family, and gets away with it."

"It's just… not an easy thing for me to talk about. I… I don't think anyone would understand." I looked down at my hands.

There was a small pause. Chibs sighed. He lifted my chin with his finger and turned my head towards his.

"You think I wouldn't understand?" He said softly. He then turned his head showing me his obvious scars on his cheeks.

I looked at him for a moment. Letting my face tell him that I was sorry for assuming that no one could understand what is was like to be scarred.

"Tell me," He whispered.

I began to cry silently, letting the tears roll down my cheeks, but without making a sound. We sat in the car for a couple hours while I told him everything. I told him about my abusive foster dads, and my mom's rapist boyfriends. I told him every painful memory with every painful detail. And he listened intently. When we drove back to my little house, he helped me out of the car and walked me to my door.

"What about you?" I asked timidly. "Are you going to tell me anything?"

"Not a chance." He chucked quietly. "Call us if you need anything tonight."

"Okay." I half smiled.

"Goodnight, darlin'" And with that he gave me a tight hug and walked back to the car.

I watched as he drove away, feeling relieved to have told someone about my past, but also a bit exposed and scared to know that he knew. I was worried about the club knowing. I was worried that they thought I was weak, or messed up. I barely got any sleep that night.

Chapter 11

I woke up in the morning to the sound of loud banging on my door. Lazily, I walked to the front of the house and opened the door. Of course, it was Diana. Without invitation, she took of her sunglasses and strutted inside.

"Hm. Looks kinda nice in here." She said condescendingly, looking the living room up and down with her eyes.

She was wearing tight fitting jeans and high heels. She was around 40, but she looked like around my age. She wore a heavy face of make-up, red acrylic nails, and big hoop earrings. She looked exactly the same as she did when I was just a little girl.

"Oh, uh, sorry about your uh, face. You know, I was a bit angry when your uncle told me where you were." She said putting her hand on her hip.

"Why do you care?" I said lethargically.

"How dare you talk to your mama like that!? You couldn't even call to tell me you were moving to California?" She yelled.

"You wouldn't have answered the phone anyway!" I yelled back.

"You were rude to your uncle, you dance around like a little slut – I've been trying to contact you for weeks!" She screamed, ignoring everything I said.

"You're not REALLY going to give me a lesson in morality and lady-like behavior, are you?" I was mad now.

"Don't make me smack the shit out of you again!" She threatened.

"Then leave!" I shouted.

She looked down at the ground and crossed her arms. She looked as if she was about to cry.

"I really… I really have been trying to get a hold of you for weeks, Ty." My mom was using her innocent, needy voice. I already knew what she wanted.

"How much do you need, mom?" I sighed heavily.

Her head perked up, "Only a couple thousand, to bail Sergio out. I promise. I promise, I'll pay you back sweetheart."

I looked at her sad face and bright pink lipstick. This was my mother who hadn't cared for me or raised me. Was she really even a mother at all? I saw tears start to well up in her eyes. Sighing heavily, I turned and walked down the hallway to my bedroom and came back with a small box of cash and handed it to her. Diana set it down on the table and grabbed my face with both her hands. Her long, red claws scratched my cheeks and she kissed my forehead five times.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, Chiquita." She smiled wide. She then grabbed the box and turned to leave. She was walking fast.

"Wait, wha? You're leaving? Right now?" I said completely confused. "You've been here for literally 10 minutes!"

"I have to get back to Sergio today, baby. But we'll go spend a day together soon! I promise."

She walked out the door. I ran after.

"Wait! Mom! Stay! Where are you going?" I shouted.

She got in the car and waved her hand out the window.

"Love you, call you soon!" She said, ignoring me.

"Mom!"

But it was too late, she turned her car down street and drove off. She just took my money and left. Like she always did. I wasn't sure when I'd see her again.

Chapter 12

After about a week I stopped being angry about my mom. I was used to her sudden visits and angry outbursts. I was just happy to finally be surrounded by people who actually cared about me. Life went on pretty quietly that week. The club didn't seem to have any real threating problems. They all mostly hung around, let me cook for them, and worked on cars.

A package arrived at my house one afternoon, and I was extremely excited to open it. I had ordered a really expensive, (and very illegal) box of Cuban Cigars for the club. I hopped on my bike drove down to the club house. Gemma greeted me.

"Hey! Peaches! Chucky wants to know how you make those steak tacos everyone likes so much."

"Nope. Family recipe, family secret." I winked.

"Whatcha got there, hun?" She asked looking at the wooden box in my hand.

"It's a surprise!" I beamed.

"For the guys? They're up at the cabin. Let's go." She smiled and put an arm around me.

We hopped in Gemma's huge SUV and drove for a while just listening to music. After a while she turned down the music looked at me. I could tell she had been waiting to ask me this.

"So, um. Chibs talked to us about your um, your injuries." She said nervously.

I tried to ease her worries. "Yeah," I laughed. "It happens. But I promise I'm okay, Gem."

Gemma smiled at me. "Well, I think you ought to know, the guys took care of some of those assholes you told Chibs about." 

"Wait, what?" My eyebrows creased.

"Yeah, they found some of your mom's old boyfriends and settled things." She said as if "settling things" was as normal as running an errand.

"Settled things?" I asked worriedly.

"Yep. Sons don't let that kind of stuff go without some sort of retaliation." She smiled reassuringly at me. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Well, at least I got them a good thank-you present," I said trying to understand what I had just heard.

We arrived at the cabin and walked inside. Gemma and I had brought a whole picnic of foods and we were all ready to have a fun summer cook-out at the cabin. Jax hugged his mom at the door, and then hugged me.

"What's that?" He asked, looking at the box.

"Open it." I smiled.

Jax took the box to the living room and sat down with rest of the club. He untied the yarn, took off the brown paper, and opened it. Everyone gasped. Clay's eyes got especially wide and he snatched the box from Jax who was grinning widely.

"Peaches. Oh my God. Where did you get these?!" Clay in astonishment, still looking at the box of cigars.

"I can't tell you." I laughed.

Clay put the box down, stood up, and wrapped me up in a huge bear hug spinning me around. We were both laughing.

We both stopped laughing when we hear a gunshot and Clay fell to the ground.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 13

Clay had been shot in the leg. Gemma rushed over to him. I turned to see my mom, (again) standing angrily in the doorway with a gun in her hand. She was crying hysterically and once again, ran over to me and clubbed the side of my head with the back of her gun.

I fell to the ground with a thump and watched upside-down in slow motion as the rest of the club drew their own guns and pointed them at my mom. My mother pointed her gun down at me.

"I'll shoot her!" She screamed and threatened.

I kicked my mom in the leg with all the force I could. She fell to the ground, the gun flying out of her hand. I pushed it away towards Gemma, who grabbed it and pointed it at Diana.

I grabbed my mother by her shirt, stood her up, and slammed her against the wall.

"Mom, what the hell are you doing?!" I shouted.

"They killed them!" She started sobbing. "They killed all of them!"

Still grasping my mom by the collar of her shirt, I pulled her off the wall and threw her towards the door.

"Tyler. They killed Sergio, Raul, all of them." She looked at me with pitiful, pleading eyes.

I looked back at Gemma, Clay, Jax, and everyone. They were all still pointing their guns at her. There was only anger in their eyes. They could kill my mom at any second. I looked back at my mom without remorse.

"They deserved it." I said without emotion.

"You…You're dead to me." She said gasping for breath.

"I've always been dead to you, mom." I said sternly. "Leave. Leave and they might let you live."

Diana wobbled in her heels, backwards towards the door, opened it, and ran for her car. We heard the ignition start up and I watched her drive away. Everyone else had put their guns away and gathered around Clay. As I went towards them to see if he was okay, Gemma stood up and pushed my away, hard.

"Get out!" She yelled.

I stood in shock.

"Leave!" She screamed.

"Gem! It's okay!" Clay yelled from the floor. "I'm fine! Tara can stitch me up!"

Gemma ignored him. She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me again. She began to cry. "I don't want to see you two crazy Mexican whores again! Leave!"

"Mom!" Jax protested.

Chibs stood up quickly and quietly, grabbed my arm and marched me out of the cabin. We got on his bike and drove away in a cloud of dust.

I was still in disbelief at what had just happened.

We got to my house and Chibs grabbed me by the waist like I was a ragdoll, lifted me off his bike, and marched me to my door. It was like he was sick of having to babysit me. He took his sunglasses off.

"You need to stay away for a bit, doll." He looked away.

"Okay." It was the only thing I could say.

"Just give Gemma a bit of space. I know Clay isn't mad at you. Just…give us some time." Chibs put his glasses back on and walked away. No hug. No smile. Nothing. I started to cry as he rode away.

Chapter 14

I stayed away. I didn't go to Teller-Morrow, I didn't go to the clubhouse, I didn't get to see Abel or Thomas, I didn't go to the store during the day, I didn't call, I didn't ride my motorcycle around. I stayed in my house until I had to go to work, then went back home. I was miserable again. On my days off I just sat in the garage, working on a couple other old bikes, listening to sad music. This went on for weeks. I was almost ready to get drunk for the first time.

I was sitting in the garage drinking lemonade, when I heard a familiar little voice shout, "Peaches!"

It was Abel. My heart skipped a beat as I looked frantically around for his little face. Gemma and Abel were walking hand-in-hand towards my house.

Gemma didn't look angry, but she did look determined. She walked up the drive way in her black heeled boots. Abel let go of her hand and ran to give me a hug.

"Hey, buddy." I almost broke out in tears.

"Can we go inside?" Gemma asked.

"Yeah, of course." I answered a little too eagerly.

Abel sat down on the couch and started watching cartoons. Gemma and I sat down at the small table I had. After a short pause, Gemma looked at me.

"I'm sorry, Tyler." She said.

"No, Gemma, I'm sorry. My mom, she.. I'm sorry." I said softly.

"It's not like it was your fault. She started up trouble, the club retaliated, she wanted revenge. It happens. And Clay is fine." She grabbed my hand.

"But what if it hadn't been his leg? What if he had gotten really hurt?" I asked.

"Listen. The club doesn't know I'm here. They need time to talk to the Mayans, and work things out. I just wanted to come let you know that you and I are okay."

"So, the club doesn't want me to come back?" I asked sadly.

"Not yet. They'll come let you know soon, though sweetheart." Gemma said sympathetically. "I know Chibs misses you."

"What do you mean?" I asked in surprise.

"I'm kidding." She laughed "But I know someone is gonna want you as their old lady. I mean, you can't keep hanging around without belonging to somebody."

"Belonging to somebody?" I asked skeptically.

Gemma ignored my question and began talking about something else. We chatted for a couple hours until she had to leave. I said goodbye to her and Abel and waved from the porch, hoping the club would let me come back.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 16

Another quiet night at my bar was about to end. The only person I knew now who was even close to being a friend of mine was a very elderly man named Nick. I'm pretty sure Nick was a bit out of his mind. He was sure to be in his seventies at least. And he was the only person who tried to talk to me. Other than that I literally had no one else to talk to. More weeks had gone by and I hadn't seen Tara or anyone. Nobody stopped by my house, nobody called, not even Gemma. Day after day went by in the same boring routine. I barely had any groceries because I was too scared to go to the store alone. I cried myself to sleep almost every night. I didn't know why. I mean it's not like they were my real, blood-related family or anything. But I missed them so unbearably, I felt like a huge part of my life was missing. It was like we were all strangers again, like I had never even met them. Eventually I started looking online for a new place to live. Maybe in Oregon or Los Angeles. I clearly didn't belong here.

It was late – about two in the morning. I started closing down the bar, wiping off the countertops, and putting the bar stools up. I sighed and pulled out a broom and dustpan from the cleaning closet. As I started to sweep, I almost started crying. I was so damn lonely. I had almost forgotten what a hug felt like. My eyes started watering as I began cursing and sweeping angrily like a maniac.

A sudden pounding on the door made me almost jump out of my skin. I froze. Again, an urgent sounding fist pounded on the door five times. I didn't move. The fist pounded harder. I grabbed my broom. It was the only weapon I had. Slowly I walked to the door, holding the broom like a spear.

"Tyler!" Juice yelled from behind the glass.

My heart leaped in my chest as I ran to the door letting him in. Chibs was with him. They were both covered in dirt and ash and were breathing heavily.

They hurriedly walked into the bar.

"Wha- what happened?" I sputtered.

Juice began to speak as though he had seen me just yesterday.

"A few hours ago, TM, the clubhouse, the whole damn place got blown to hell." He said frantically.

"What do you mean?" I asked, very confused.

"The whole place! Boom! Gone!" Juice yelled.

My mind raced. Was this my fault? No. It couldn't have been.

"Is everyone in one piece?" I asked, worried.

"Everyone is fine," Chibs said, "It was the Irish."

I only knew a little (very little) about the gun running and the club's relationship with the Irish, or… IRA. I didn't ask questions. It wasn't my place. I wasn't sure what had happened. I stood in shock with my broom still clutched tightly in my hands. The three of us stared at each other in silence for a moment. Finally, I managed to speak up.

"Well…what.. um. Why are you…here…?" I asked timidly.

"Jax wanted us to ask you if we could… set up here." Juice said a bit nervously.

"You mean, like as a… new clubhouse?" I asked.

"Only if it's alright with you, of course," Juice added, "We need a place where we can set up headquarters and have church, that kind of stuff. Isn't there a second level upstairs?"

"Can you send Jax in the morning to talk to me about it in person?" I still had a lot of questions.

"Sure. We'll see you in the mornin' then." Chibs said. "Let's go Juicy."

They left. I was still in awe at the sudden visit and sudden request. Chibs didn't even say hello, which for some reason made me feel a bit disappointed. Part of me thought I shouldn't let them stay in my bar because, well, I was a bit angry with all of them. Angry that they had abandoned me just like everyone else in my life had. I closed up and went home, wondering what Jax would have to say in the morning.

Chapter 17

I woke up that morning with a bit of a fiery attitude. If the club wanted their new "hangout" to be at my bar, they had some questions to answer.

I waited at my bar for Jax to come, and sure enough, I heard his motorcycle roar down the street and stop right outside the door. He walked in with his usual tough-guy walk, rings on his fingers, hair slicked back. I walked out from behind the bar and motioned for him to sit down at a booth. He did. I sat across from him, keeping my back straight and my hands clasped together on top of the table. I stared him down, waiting for him to explain himself.

"I'm guessing you have a few questions." Jax said.

I raised my eyebrows.

"You're mad?" He asked.

I raised my eyebrows again.

Apparently, he found this comical because he started to chuckle.

"I've missed you too, Peaches." He said sarcastically, still chuckling. He stopped chuckling when he saw the look on my face.

"Jax, I, I didn't mean for anything to happen…to any of you. I'm really… I can't say how sorry I am for what my mother did." I said sadly.

"Tyler, we know you didn't plan for that to happen," he said with surprise. "The only reason the club hasn't contacted you is because we had to tell those guys you were dead."

"What?" I asked.

"Your mom hired some guys to kill you…or hurt you." Jax said with sincerity, "the only way to keep you alive was to tell them you were already dead."

"Oh." Was all said. I felt guilty for assuming that they just didn't want me around. I felt guilty for being angry with them, when all the club was trying to do was keep me safe.

"I guess you had some other problems besides my mom…"

"Yeah, we had some serious damage done to TM. And by "serious damage" I mean it got blown up." He said with a bit of sadness in his voice.

"You need somewhere to house the club?" I asked shyly. "I sort of owe you one."

"Yeah you do." He smirked at me.

I held out my hand as a gesture of agreement. He shook it.

"I'd love to be of service." I grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 18

The club had turned the upstairs of my bar into a reaper-filled, full on badass, MC clubhouse. I was only allowed to go upstairs once, but I saw the huge table and chairs – everything. It was pretty amazing, but also weird and a bit annoying that I was now restricted from the upstairs of my own building. I was able to be with the club and cook for them during the day, then take care of customers at the bar during the night. I was so busy every day, but I was happy again. I was happy to see Lyla, Tara, and their kids again.

I didn't see Clay. And I noticed that Jax was now officially the President of the Club by the new patch on his cut. Gemma would usually drive up to the bar in a blue car with a Hispanic-looking guy that I hadn't met yet. I didn't ask about it, but I had pretty much put the pieces together myself. Clay was either dead or banished, and Gemma had moved on. She had some pretty bad scars on her face. I wanted to ask, but didn't. I wanted to ask about a lot of things, but I was too scared to. I wanted to talk to Chibs, I wanted to ask Tara about Jax's first wife who came around every once in a while. I wanted to ask where Opie was, and if Lyla was sad because he was gone. But I didn't ask questions. I figured it was the worst thing I could do.

After a while, Chucky became my best friend. I knew Chucky's story. His mental illness, his hands, everything. But he was so sweet, and helpful. He always helped clean up, and cook. He entertained us all with his kazoo, always making us laugh. Of course, our friendship was strictly platonic. As was my friendship with every other guy in the club. Just friends. I'm not going to lie, it was a bit sad that seemingly no male was attracted to me. I thought maybe it was my age, and that I was too young for any of them too be in a relationship with. But, Rat was with a girl younger than me, and Juice wasn't much older than me. A lot of the guys were too old for me, but a few weren't much older than me. Maybe I just wasn't attractive. Maybe I was just too shy. I started to worry after a while. Was I just a female version of Chucky? Just the girl that cleans and cooks like the mascot of the club? I remembered Gemma's words echoing in my head, "You'd make a good old lady. Someone's gonna snatch you up." But that hadn't happened yet. And I was afraid I'd never earn the title of, "old lady." I was so jealous of Tara. Everyone respected her like a princess. She was Jax's old-lady. Sure, everyone was kind and polite to me, no one tried to take advantage of me or anything, but I felt like I was just a little sister, or even a maid. I was very grateful to the club, for being a family to me and helping me with anything I needed, but, even with everyone constantly around me all the time, I started to feel lonely.

Then I did the most pathetic thing a girl could do. I started to make an effort to make myself prettier. I tried to wear makeup, jewelry, nice clothes. Nobody noticed. Except of course, Gemma.

Gemma walked into the bar with her new boyfriend and another friend. She waved at me and walked up.

"Peach, this is Nero." Gemma smiled.

"Oh, this is the lovely Peaches! Nero Padilla," He introduced himself with a warm handshake.

"I like him already, Gemma," I smiled and shook his hand.

"And this is Venus," Gemma introduced a very tall, muscular, but very beautiful transgender woman. Venus very sweetly leaned her whole body over the counter and gave me a huge hug instead of a handshake.

"You are just adorable," She said her southern-ish accent.

"Thank you," I laughed nervously.

"Honey, what are you doin' with that make-up?" She blatantly asked.

I wasn't offended. I knew it didn't look very good.

"Hey, I tried," I laughed again, "I'm just not so sure what I'm doing. I'm sort of new to this whole fashion…thing."

"Well, sweetheart, come on! Venus always has a trick up her sleeve." Venus grabbed me by the arm.

I looked back at Gemma and Nero with pleading eyes. They only laughed as I was dragged away.

Venus led me to the bathroom where she sat me down and began pulling makeup out of her purse.

"By the time I am done with you, men will be throwing themselves at your pretty little feet." She said with confidence.

"Are you sure…" I started to ask but Venus promptly cut me off.

"Hush! I need you to sit still woman!" She ordered.

I sat and didn't make a peep.

It seemed like hours went by as she poked small pencils in and around my eye, and put sticky lip gloss on my mouth.

"Almost done," she sang.

As she turned me around to see my reflection in the mirror, I was expecting to see an unrecognizable clown. But to my pleasant surprise, I saw myself. Just, a more make-up-y version. It actually looked pretty natural. I started smiling wide.

"Do you like it?" Venus asked hopefully.

"I… I really do." I said, still in amazement.

"Honey, are you gettin' choked up? Cuz you'll smear my masterpiece." Venus said putting her hand on her hip.

"I'm sorry," I said carefully wiping under my eyes. "My mom never taught me about any of this."

"Oh, sweetheart," she said as she wrapped me up in a hug. "My mama never taught me anything either. You just gotta learn from someone willing to teach you and love you."

"Thank you, Venus." I hugged her tight.

From then on Venus mentored me on all things female. She helped me shop, walk in heels, do my hair, everything. She could see I needed a female teacher (besides Gemma and her charms) to help me become less of a girl, and more of a woman.

She was sitting in my bar one afternoon, touching up her lipstick with a small compact while I washed some dishes. Tig came in and said hello, then went to Venus and kissed her cheek before walking upstairs. Venus blushed a little. I smiled, still washing dishes.

"So, you and Tig… Are you guys, together?" I was started to overcome my fear of asking personal questions, which I wasn't sure was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I'm not even sure what to tell you on that one," Venus giggled. "But Alex sure is sweet."

"You guys are cute." I said quietly.

Venus sat up a little straighter and looked me up and down. She put a finger on her chin, set both her elbows on the bar, and squinted, deep in thought.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm just tryin' to think," she said still looking at me quizzically, "We ought to find a man for you."

I laughed out loud. "Venus. It's hopeless. I'm hopeless."

"Excuse me?" She said, offended. "Now, I did not go through weeks of my best training with you to have you give up on me, girl!"

"What's going on?" Nero came in with Gemma.

"We're thinking of possible candidates for Peaches," Venus said.

"No, we're not!" I protested.

"Like boyfriends?" Nero asked, teasing me. He sat down next to Venus. "Hmmm. I have a few nephews you could meet!"

I smiled, looked down, and shook my head. "You guys are out of your minds."

"Oh! What about Juice? The lovely Portuguese one!" Venus said excitedly.

I laughed nervously again and shook my head no.

"Yeah! Juice would be great! I'm sure he likes you!" Nero chimed in.

Gemma could see how uncomfortable I was. She could see that I did not want to talk about this. But being Gemma, she only made the situation worse. She smiled her mischievous smile and spoke up.

"You know, Peach, the club wanted to have a, sort of, grand-opening party for their new clubhouse. With you as the guest of honor. It would be their way of saying thanks. What do you say?" Gemma said twirling her sunglasses in her hand.

"Do I really have a choice?" I asked sarcastically.

"Nope." She said.

"Oh, I love parties!" Venus said clapping her hands.

"And I'm inviting some of the Mayans and the girls from Diosa," Nero said with a wink. "Dancing! Food! Family! Come on, Peachy, you gotta live a little."

"When is this party that I'm hosting, that I just found out about?" I asked.

"Tonight." Gemma said, smirking again.

Chapter 19

That night, Lyla and a few other girls came over and started setting up for the party. They all gave me a warm hug, asking if I was going to pole-dance tonight. I quickly replied with a firm, "No." They giggled. "We'll see," They teased.

Eventually the party was in full swing. Chucky and I had made all sorts of delicious food. I tried to stay in the kitchen with him as long as I possibly could, but Jax and Tara found me.

"You can't stay in here all night! You're the guest of honor, silly!" Tara laughed. She was in a surprisingly good mood. Venus was with Tig. Gemma with Nero. Tara with Jax. Happy had three girls in his arms. And although everyone was eating, laughing, and dancing, I was out of place again.

But after a while, I was dancing too. Bobby taught me how to waltz, which was one of his many surprising talents. Juice showed me his Latino side and taught me his best tango and samba moves. Eventually, I had danced with everyone. Random Mayans, a few Grim Bastards, and some of Nero's friends. I was pulled into the energy of the party. Most of the music was songs that Nero had picked, so a lot of it was spicy, samba music. It was so entertaining to see Nero try to teach Gemma how to dance, and watch Bobby twirl Lyla around. Jax and Tara were awkwardly and jokingly doing old-school tango across the room. I was just happy that everyone else was happy.

A new song came on and a new guy asked me to dance. He was definitely one of Nero's nephews or cousins. He was slender, tall, and handsome with black hair. I didn't know his name, and I didn't really care to ask. We started dancing. He was an aggressive dancer. I mean, he had the moves. Moves that made me blush. But I knew he was just joking, so I went along with it. I guess my own Mexican side started to show because I started dancing full on Latina. We shimmied back and forth, he spun me around until I was dizzy, he dipped me and swung me back up, and it was a fun (and exhausting) dance.

After three minutes of heart-racing samba, the song finally ended. As the final dance move, my dancing partner grabbed my hips and quickly pulled me in close so our faces were close together and our noses were touching. We were both laughing as the circle of people that had formed around us started applauding our performance. I hadn't even noticed people were watching.

Unfortunately, the laughter and applause stopped short when Chibs randomly came out of nowhere and pummeled my dance partner to the ground with an angry fist.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 9

I stepped back and covered my mouth with my hands. I was in shock, and quite confused. I froze, watching as my dance partner was hit several times across the face. Some of the men that were standing in the surrounding circle started cheering and yelling – encouraging my unknown dance partner to fight back.

"Get up, Miguel!" They chanted.

Miguel. So that was his name. The unfortunate man to have danced with me and was now being punished for some unknown reason. His name was Miguel. I didn't move. I wasn't sure if I should move. Or run. I wasn't sure if this was another fight that way my fault, or if Chibs and Miguel were fighting about some other club thing. I only saw the back of Chibs's leather cut and his slicked back hair and his fist pumping more blows into the side of Miguel's face. I started to step forward and split it up, but Bobby grabbed my shoulder.

" 'Scuse me darlin'" He said very calmly. Bobby pushed through the crowd that had gathered around Chibs and Miguel. He then grabbed Chibs from behind and pulled him off Miguel, who was bewildered and bleeding on the floor. The utterly confused look on his face reassured me that Miguel was not expecting an angry Scottish man to beat him to a pulp. Bobby and Tig dragged an angry and uncontrollable Chibs away into another room. I went to my dance partner and helped him up. The look on my face was apologetic. The look on his was angry.

"What the hell was that?" He groaned. He shot me a glare as a couple of his friends helped him walk to any empty booth.

"I'm…sorry." I weakly called out as he limped away. I put both my hands on my hips and let out a sigh. Why did these things always happen to me? It was like I summoned angry fist fights wherever I went. I walked back to my usual spot behind the counter. I was safe there. And I stayed there until everyone calmed down and went back to drinking and dancing. I hid like a nervous kitten, cleaning glasses and organizing bottles. Venus pushed through the crowd with her acrylic nails in the air and her elbows by her side. She was also grinning widely.

My eyebrows scrunched together. "I'm sorry but what in the world are you smiling at?"

I looked around the room. Jax was also shooting me a teasing grin from across the room. Nero winked at me as Gemma threw her head back and laughed. What were they all laughing at? What was so funny? Some poor guy just got beat up right in front of them! Venus sat down on a bar stool, pressed her lips together and looked at me, as if she was waiting for me to say something. I didn't say a word. Maybe I really was a big joke to all of them. The goofy, teenage-looking girl who causes hilarious trouble. Could they exile me again? No, they basically lived in my bar. Could they kick me out of my own bar? I wanted to throw a fit and run away like a little girl. Finally, Venus broke the silence.

"Well, sugar, he wasn't my first choice," she said looking over her shoulder, "but I was right. As usual."

"Right about what, Venus? Who wasn't your first choice?"

"Now, don't play dumb with me, girl." She teased.

But I wasn't playing dumb. Was she talking about finding me a guy? Because if she was –

"I suppose he is a bit older than you, but not old enough to be your dad… is he?" Venus thought out loud.

I stared at her with a stupid look on my face. I was having a great night, and it all blew up in my face. It's what always happened. Things were just started to work out and then Chibs had to -

"Chibs?!" I suddenly put all the pieces together. Venus, and apparently everyone else thought Chibs was the guy for me. That'd I would be his old lady.

Venus clasped her hands together. "I didn't plan on anything like this happenin' tonight, but did you see that protectiveness?"

"Protective?!" I protested. Jax, Nero, Gemma, and Tara had gathered to listen to our conversation. I planned to set things straight. "You are all misinterpreting the situation. There must be some misunderstanding."

Jax scoffed at me. "There's not much to misinterpret, Peach. There's only one reason a guy starts a fight with another guy on a dance floor – to get the girl."

"He's absolutely right." Venus added.

I glared at Jax, who continued to laugh at me. I spoke very slowly and sternly.

"Listen. You guys. I'm not Chib's type. I highly doubt Chibs ever gets jealous, and even if he did, he would not get jealous over me. I'm sure he sees me as nothing but a shy, immature, ... niece. Or something." I tried to correct them. Jax interrupted me.

"You don't know Chibs like I do." He said rather seriously and walked off.

I turned to Gemma. Gemma always knew about things she shouldn't. She was full of secrets and answers. But she spoke before I could.

"So… do you not even like Chibs?" she asked.

I felt like I was in Junior High school again. Nero and Venus looked at me intently, waiting for an answer. After a long pause, I decided I should answer as honestly as I possibly could.

"I never even thought about it, because I didn't think it was even an option. Chibs is the kind of guy… er, man that I'd admire from a distance. Yes, obviously, he's handsome and mysterious, and I could listen to him talk all day. But I'm sure he only sees me as a little girl." I whispered.

"Right. That's why he broke a random guy's face in tonight." Gemma said sarcastically. "Peaches. Do you like him, or not?"

I started stuttering as my eyes darted around the room. I nervously shrugged and making nonsensical noises. I couldn't get an answer out. I was still sputtering when Chibs hurriedly pushed through everyone in the bar. He didn't look at me, or anyone else. He didn't say a word. He just swung the door open and left. I heard his bike start and listened as he drove away.

I gestured towards the door. "Well, it doesn't really matter does it? Because clearly, he doesn't like me. The end."

Gemma sat with Nero at the bar as I hid in the back kitchen. Gemma and Nero clinked their glasses together. "Some party." She said, chuckling.


	9. Chapter 9

"This is weird," Jax said abruptly the next morning. "Usually, a guy in the club wants someone, they just sleep with her. Simple as that."

I raised my eyebrows at him as I poured a cup of coffee.

"I don't get why Chibs is takin' so long," he said very matter-of-factly.

"Probably because I'm not just some slutty slut who just sleeps with anyone." I said a bit defensively.

"Okay, first off, Peaches, you're a stripper."

"No," I stopped him. "I used to be a pole-dancer. There's a difference."

He ignored me. "Secondly, it's Chibs. He's VP. And he's just the type of guy who gets what he wants. Women fall at his feet."

"Good for him." I said, walking away.

I went to the kitchen to serve up a plate of breakfast for Jax. He was always at the bar the earliest. Probably because sometimes he didn't even sleep at night. Chucky was in the kitchen already, watching the bacon.

"You ok?" Chucky asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah!" I lied. "I just wish I could go a week without causing someone to get punched in the face."

I grabbed the plate and went back to the bar.

"Here ya go Prez," I said. But when I looked up, Jax wasn't there. Chibs was sitting in front of me instead. I almost dropped the plate of food I was carrying. The surprise of seeing him just sitting there calmly made me stumble forward, almost tripping.

"Oh…sorry." I mumbled, embarrassed. (Obviously.)

I was expecting him to say, 'Oh no, don't be sorry. I should be the one saying sorry for my behavior last night. Let's shake hands and agree to be polite towards one another.' But he didn't. He just sat there, letting the silence become awkward. I looked around the bar. It was empty, except for me and handsome man that made me stumble. What was this? Some kind of joke? Clearly, they all went upstairs, abandoning me to this dungeon of awkwardness. Chibs stared at me. Or maybe he was staring at the plate of food in my hands.

"Do you…? Are you…? Hungry?" I asked.

He said nothing, but spread his hands across the bar as if to say, "Yes, servant girl, place the breakfast food here."

So I did. I got him fork and a knife, and the whole time, he wouldn't stop staring at me. It wasn't an angry stare, or a creepy stare, or a teasing stare. He was just looking at me. Even as he took bites of food, he would look down, stab a piece of pancake, and look back up at me. So I stepped back, leaned against the wall and folded my arms. I looked back at him. He looked at me, and ate his breakfast. Finally, I couldn't play this weird staring-game anymore.

"What?" I asked in a frustrated tone.

He sat chewing on a piece of bacon and stared at me some more.

"What?" I asked again.

His stare didn't change for another 30 seconds, until he blinked once, and said one word.

"Syrup."

He mimed the motion of pouring syrup on his pancakes.

I had a couple of choices at this moment. I could turn around and get him some syrup. Or, I could keep staring at him. Or, I could swear and throw a fit, demanding to know what the hell was going on. Or, I could lean forward and grab his stupid face and kiss – wait what? No! That wasn't an option.

I unfolded my arms and slowly walked towards him. "You want syrup?" I asked rhetorically.

"Yes, please." He said without changing his stare.

Well, at least he said 'please'.

"You can have your damn syrup after you can explain what the hell is going on." I tried to be threatening, but I knew I sounded like kitten trying to be a tiger.

"Well," he leaned in close, speaking slowly and softly, "I have pancakes here, and they need syrup."

I felt like kissing him and slapping him across the face at the same time. But all I did was sigh angrily and walk around the counter and out of my bar, leaving him there. Without syrup.

I walked all the way back to my house. At this point I wasn't really sure if I did have feelings for Chibs, or if I only thought I did, because of what Venus and everyone else had said. Last night's events were even more confusing. Part of me wondered if I really didn't like him at all, considering his odd mood swings and his unwillingness to talk to me about anything. I felt like a stupid teenager, worrying about crushes and signs and signals. Jax was right, they were a badass motorcycle club, if they wanted to be with someone, they made it clear. So I had made up my mind. Chibs didn't like me, the club was just joking around, and I should stop worrying about the whole thing. I opened the door to my little house, feeling a lot better, and thankful that I had chosen to go on a head-clearing walk. But I could still remember my own words, echoing in my head. "He probably sees me as a little girl."

I realized that if I did not want to be seen as a little girl, I'd have to stop acting like a little girl.

But for tonight, I was going to hide in my house and avoid everyone for now. Venus and Gemma combined were a whirlwind of rumors, gossip, and unnecessary drama. I got in some comfy sweatpants and settled in for the night. Ignoring my phone, my job, the club, but most of all, Chibs. Even though I had made up my mind to forget about the whole thing, he just needed to be avoided for tonight.

I was right in the middle of a great episode of "I Love Lucy" when the phone rang.

"Leave me alone…" I thought in my head.

The phone kept ringing. I threw the blanket off my legs, sending pieces of popcorn flying through the air, and answered.

"Hello?"

"Peaches! Hey! Can you come pick me up?"

It was Lyla. She sounded a bit drunk. I did not want to go pick her up.

"Where are you?" I sighed

"Porn studio. The guys and some Russians threw an impromptu party and I wanna come home."

"Be there in a minute," I reassured her.

"Love yoooouuu!" She sang.

I hung up and looked at the clock 3:00 a.m. Crap. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was going on at the studio, but Lyla needed me. I got in my old truck and reluctantly drove towards one of my least favorite places.

I could hear the loud music playing as soon as I hopped out of my truck. There was a party in there all right. I walked in, searching for Lyla. I was still wearing sweatpants and a Pink Floyd t-shirt. The cutesy, lingerie-wearing porn stars disapprovingly looked me up and down.

"Looking for Chibs?" Ima yelled at me over the music. "He's over there."

She pointed a fake hot-pink nail over at a large leather sofa. And there was Chibs. Sitting with two porn stars, one under each arm, both of whom were wearing basically nothing. They were giggling as Chibs kissed their necks. He seemed to be having a good time.

I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I could feel the blood rush to my face in embarrassment or anger or sadness. My stomach dropped to the floor. I looked at Ima, who was obnoxiously chewing her gum and smirking at me.

I looked down at my feet. "No, I'm looking for Lyla, she asked for a ride home."

"Oh, I'll go get her," Ima said in a ditzy voice.

I looked again for Chibs, even though I knew this was a bad idea. Chibs was already looking at me. My eyes met his. And while mine were holding back angry tears, his looked rather joyful. He didn't look surprised at all to see me, or ashamed of what he was doing. With his arms still stretched around two gorgeous women, he almost looked pleased to see me standing there, all disheveled and hurt. But why should he feel guilty? It's not like we were a couple.

"Let's go." Lyla said taking my arm. She could see the tears starting to spill. And she knew why. Just like any good friend she took my arm and marched me out of the building.

"I knew this was a bad idea," She said shaking her head.

"Wait, what? Bad idea?" I said pulling away from her.

She looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes. I could see she felt guilty about something.

"Wait a minute. You're not drunk at all!" I accused.

"I'm sorry, Jax asked me to –" she tried to explain.

"Can everyone stop playing games with me for two freaking seconds!? Why did you call me to pick you up? To torture me?"

"Jax asked me to call you, and make you come up here, to see how you would… react.." Lyla said looking down. "This is just how the club does things, they wanted to see if you would be protective, too."

"So, what? They want me to go in there and beat up those two girls Chibs was with? Just like he beat up Miguel the other night? Well, guess what? I'm not going to beat up anybody, and I'm not jealous! Chibs a grown man and he can do whatever the hell he wants with whoever the hell he wants! I'm not going to play this sick game. It's like everyone thinks I'm a fun play toy they can just manipulate for their own entertainment!"

"No, Tyler, that's not how it is at all!" Lyla tried to calm me down. "No one was trying to hurt you."

"Really?! No one was trying to hurt me? Is that why you guys set me up to come here and see him with-"

I stopped short, realizing what I had just said. Lyla half smiled at me. I looked up at her in shock.

"Oh god. I really do like him, don't I?" I said quietly.

"So what are you going to do about it?" She asked, still smiling.

"I'm not going back in there." I said stubbornly

"Okay, fine, I will."

"No! Stop! Can we just…deal with this some other time? It's like four in the morning. Let's go. Please, let's just go." I pleaded.

We got in my truck and headed for home. I wasn't sure how or when I was going to deal with this whole situation.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke up with my eyes stuck together. I had cried myself to sleep last night. How pathetic. I kept trying to remind myself. Chibs didn't like me. Chibs likes porn stars. I am not a porn star. But my brain kept reminding me that I liked him. And that bothered me.

I just kept repeating that argument over and over in my head. It didn't make me feel any better.

I started to get angry. I slammed doors, I slammed the fridge shut; I couldn't calm down. After a long shower, I picked out a depressing almost all black outfit, and caked my face in make-up to hide my swollen eyes. I headed over to my bar, expecting to see the club. Without a doubt, they were all hungover, and needed food. (Or more alcohol.)

I drove my motorcycle over. There was something about going for a ride that calmed me down and cleared my head. Sure enough, all the beautiful, black Harley's were parked outside. I walked in with a strange attitude of anger and confidence. My emotions were all over the place. And that bothered me. Why did I even care about Chibs? He was so much older than me. What could he do for me? I was independent, I didn't need anyone. I also knew I was lying to myself.

The moment I walked through the door, my emotions went from anger, to rage. My bar was turned upside-down. There were broken bottles on the floor, glass and puddles of beer everywhere, naked women lying randomly around the floor like Tetris pieces. Members of the club were upstairs and downstairs, passed out.

Chucky came out from the backroom kitchen and looked at me with sad, apologetic eyes. He already had a broom and dustpan in his hands.

I stomped over to the kitchen and grabbed a metal pan and a large wooden spoon. With all the force I could, I made an alarm clock from hell. I walked out of the kitchen banging the spoon on the pan as hard as I could.

"Everybody get the hell out!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

That's when the peaceful slumber ended. Everyone jumped in surprise and scrambled to their feet. The porn stars started embarrassingly covering their naked bodies and ran for the back door. The men in their Sons of Anarchy vests scrambled up and started zipping up their pants. Juice and Rat started walking towards the back door. I put my pan down and walked slowly across the floor, crunching class between my feet.

"You're not going anywhere," I glared up at them. "Start cleaning. Now."

"Yes ma'am." They mumbled.

I was so angry I was seeing red. I attempted to clean up the countertops when I heard strangely calm footsteps walk down the stairs. It was Chibs. He emerged calmly and slowly from the staircase. He did his signature move where he combed his hair back with both his hands and straightened his vest. He looked around the room that was now being cleaned and his eyes met mine. He smirked.

Why was he smirking at me? Almost exactly after our eyes met I heard a dreaded sound. It was the sound of stripper heels coming down the stairs behind Chibs. An overweight, blonde woman with smeared black make-up all over her face stumbled down the stairs, giggling like an idiot. Chibs saw her come down, and put his arm around her shoulder. She smiled at him with pink lipstick smudged on her yellow teeth.

I was glaring at her. I was just blatantly glaring at her. I knew I should've stopped, but I couldn't. She saw me glaring a black hole through her face and scrunched her eyebrows at me. She turned to Chibs.

"Why is your cleaning lady looking at me like that?" She said.

I lost it. I turned into a rabies-infected pit bull. I wasn't thinking. I only saw her awful face. I could feel my legs moving me towards her, and I threw my elbow into her left cheekbone. She made a pitiful sound of pain and fell to the floor. Chibs jumped out of the way, and I jumped on top of her, letting all my anger out.

"Holy shit." I heard a few men say in the background.

My muscles heated up more and more. Adrenaline and jealously and fire pumped through every inch of me and exploded from my fists. I could feel her long claws grabbing a chunk of my hair. I grabbed her arm, bent it and kneeled on it with all my weight. I heard a snap as she screamed in pain. I threw one more punch. I swung with as much force as I could and her head bounced against the hard, cold tile. She was knocked out cold. And my knuckles were bleeding.

I looked up, the club was chuckling quietly. I looked down at my victim and immediately felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. She was just a dumb whore. She didn't deserve this. Why where they laughing at this situation? It was not funny in the slightest.

"Get her out of here," I ordered at no one in particular.

I stood up, walked away and hid in the kitchen, holding my fist in my hand. I had turned into Chibs. How much longer could I take this weird limbo between not talking and showing obvious jealously?

"How much longer are you going to do this weird thing with Chibs?" Tara asked as she wrapped up my bruised hand.

"Jesus, Tara. I don't know what's going on." I sighed.

"Your bar and the clubhouse is all cleaned up. Just thought you out to know," Tara said, trying to cheer me up.

"Thank you," I replied.

Tara left my house that night, and I felt emptier than I had ever felt before. I was so numb. I couldn't turn on the T.V., I couldn't eat. I just felt guilty for everything.

I curled up on the couch hugging my knees. I stayed in this position for almost 2 hours when I jumped at the sound of soft knocking at my door. It was Gemma or Venus, bringing me a casserole or wanting to talk about Tig. I slouched to the door and opened it.

Chibs stood in front of me, with no cigarette in his mouth or sunglasses on his eyes. He just looked at me.

"Can I come in?"


End file.
